" Almost the identical words of the boy. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. “I think that it is only an idea. He uttered a short laugh. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless.
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